Darkness and the Dawn
by neesah
Summary: AU. "A blood feud starts with blood spilt and continues as long as blood is shed between the feuding parties. For it to stop it would call for a blood dowry. That’s what I’m willing to give. Are you willing to give a blood dowry to match my own?”
1. A blood feud's pay

**Darkness and the Dawn**

by Neesah

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine. Nor would it ever be.

Another AU fic. I'm taking a break from In Blood so I started writing this. It's a medieval/sci-fi mix, with a dash of mythology. Hope you like it.

**Chapter 1:  A blood feud's pay**

Some called it the Maze of the Lost, for many had been heard of entering it but were never seen again. Others called it the Valkyries' Garden, for it was believed that only these fierce yet mysterious warrior women of Valhalla had the ability (and the privilege, it might be added) to come in and out there at will, without getting lost. But to many, it was referred to as the Dark Forest, simply because it was always dark there, even during daytime. And though the mysticism around the Dark Forest somewhat dimmed throughout the past years when Duke Dermail of the Duchy of Romefeller spread the news of his soldiers storming in and massacring all the Valkyries during one of their festivals there, many people would still think twice before entering the said forest or, at the very least, wouldn't let themselves be caught inside it after dark. For it was still common belief that both Aspects of the Goddess Mother, meaning her gentle and harsh sides, were fully manifested there. Being that sacred, the Dark Forest was held in high regard and great fear, and no amount of rumor, however convincing it sounded, could change that. Especially if it was also rumored that the said group of soldiers who despoiled the Goddess' Sacred Hearth were never seen again when they attempted to enter the Dark Forest for the 2nd time after the massacre. Some said that the Goddess Mother, putting on her Warrior Aspect, punished them, while others were certain that it was the Valhallans and not the Goddess who took their revenge on the murderers of their kin. Still, there were a few who believed that these men, in all their ignorance and arrogance, simply got lost inside, having been too sure that they already knew all the pathways of the forest, which many thought of as a labyrinth albeit a special and deadly one at that. 

With all these said, it would surely come as a surprise to anyone to see a lone figure silently and carefully making his way towards the deeper recesses of the Dark Forest during this time of night. What was more surprising was that it seemed like he knew exactly where he was going, his eyes seeing through the dark.

The figure came face to face with what seemed to be a dead end. Undaunted, the figure squeezed through the heavy and thick wall of vines and thorns, his golden armor protecting his whole body from scrapes and scratches these plants had to offer. After wading through the endless sea of vines, he finally reached a clearing where one could see the moonlight seeping through the trees from above.

He stopped, his senses alert. He started walking again when all of a sudden, he whirled around just in time to block another sword. The moonlight illuminated another armor-clad figure in crimson red with black undertones, and judging from the designs of their armors, it was obvious that these warriors were of different nationalities. But it could be duly noted that not only was the newcomer's armor different from his current opponent's armor, or any other armors of any kingdom on the planet for that matter, it was also far from ordinary. It had a multi-segmented, heat-radiating whip (which eerily looked like a tail) that was attached to its shield and a round green object adorned its chest. The head gear was definitely a far cry from any other ordinary head gear of their time. It covered the whole head (though there were subtle holes for the nose, ears and lips, and bigger holes for the eyes) thereby giving off the impression of a face of a mechanical being. It would seem heavy, but it wasn't, having been made from Gundamium, the strongest and lightest metal in the whole planet. And just seeing an armor like this would be enough to strike fear to anyone, because anyone who wears such an armor would undoubtedly be a Valhallan, the mysterious yet feared race of strong and fierce warriors. For only in the land of Valhalla could one find Gundamium, and only the Valhallans had the knowledge to harness it.   

The two continued to clash swords but were equally matched, neither one getting the upper hand. Finally, both of them managed to point the tip of their swords at each other's throats, signaling a draw. A heartbeat passed before the one in red remarked, "The rumors of your illness are false then. You're still as fit and as quick as I remember, Ishtar."

Ishtar removed his helmet, revealing short platinum blonde hair and ice blue eyes. "You're not bad yourself. I see that you're still holding your title as the strongest man in all Valhalla, Epyon."

The man he called Epyon shook his head before removing his head gear. Wild black hair framed a stern, handsome face, but was arresting about him was his eyes --- it was a different shade of blue --- Prussian. "Not for long. And you know better than call me Epyon," he answered, glaring at Ishtar.

Ishtar smiled. "I'm just checking if I still have the privilege to call you by your real name, Odin." Ishtar knew that aside from the fact that Valhallans didn't like revealing their faces to people they didn't trust, they also didn't like being referred to by their real names. That was why Valhallans had use-names. Trust and Honor were held highest among this proud race of warriors and only if one got both would he be granted the privilege of seeing a Valhallan's face and knowing his name.  "It's been too long, old friend." 

This time, Odin couldn't help smiling back. "I know. The last time we met like this was like what? 12 years ago?" He suddenly frowned. "It was nice to see you again, Ishtar but you shouldn't have arranged this meeting. You know that it's dangerous for you to meet me like this. Are you sure you weren't followed this time?"

Ishtar's grin widened, remembering. "Don't worry. I wasn't followed…" His grin then turned into a grimace, his voice trailing off as he staggered, both his hands gripping his head before dropping to his knees. Odin saw this and was about to go to his aid but Ishtar stopped him. A moment passed before Ishtar whispered, "I sure am getting old. It took me a long time to arrive here," a shadowed smile showing on his lips.

Odin heard rumors of Ishtar being sick for quite a while now but he thought that it was just that --- rumors. "You shouldn't be stressing yourself. You might be able to fool your whole court but you couldn't fool me," Odin told him in an even tone, though one look at his eyes would betray his concern. He knew that though Ishtar was a pure blooded Sanctian, he was as Valhallan in his pride as Odin was. "Is it serious?"

Looking directly at his friend's eyes, Ishtar replied, "I only have at most 5 months to live."

Odin nodded grimly, studying him carefully before stating, "I'm guessing you haven't told anyone yet."

Ishtar smiled sheepishly, almost resembling his 15 yr old self. "Just you. Well, my doctor and his daughter knew, but I trust them not to tell anyone. They all think that it's just because of stress and old age." His eyes then reverted to looking like his present self --- the 50 yr old man who had too many responsibilities on his shoulders. "That's why I have to talk to you. There isn't enough time. The war has gone long enough, Odin. You and I are the only ones who could end this and end this we must." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "If I die and this isn't resolved, I swear, it would never be resolved. We must end this as soon as we can."

"I know how you feel. I want to end this stupid blood feud too as much as you do. But how? Even with who we are, we still couldn't stop them. Vengeance is a never-ending cycle of bloodshed. You kill one of us, we'll kill one of yours. It'll only stop if both sides are annihilated. Or if both would be willing to exchange blood with each other, thereby sealing the feud and uniting the two sides, causing only one blood to run true…" Understanding dawned on him as he saw the expression on Ishtar's face. "You mean…"

"A blood feud starts with blood spilt and continues as long as blood is shed between the feuding parties. For it to stop it would call for a blood dowry. That's what I'm willing to give. Are you willing to give a blood dowry to match my own?" Ishtar asked. He never raised his voice yet it seemed that his question rang out throughout the forest.  

Odin's eyes were intense as he gazed at Ishtar. They were both tired of this war, tired of fighting, of killing, of mourning. And they knew everyone was as tired as they were. "If blood is what is needed to stop this senseless war and attain peace, then I'm willing to match your blood dowry," he answered, offering his hand.

Ishtar nodded, accepting the other man's hand in a firm grasp. And so, Ishtar Peacecraft, King of the Sanc Kingdom and Odin Yuy, Grand Aescir of Valhalla shook hands, both best friends and enemies to each other. The will for the blood exchange was expressed, true, but it still needed to be sealed. Nonetheless, the idea of dawn coming to dispel the darkness finally had the chance to become a reality.  

It was already late when they arrived. All was dark and quiet and the only thing that could be heard were the servants scurrying around to pass on the news of their arrival. But he knew from the moment they entered the gates that something was wrong. When the carriage came to a halt, a tall, handsome man with long platinum blonde hair immediately jumped out, his icy blue eyes flashing. "Pagan, where's everybody?" he asked when he saw his most trusted friend and butler ran down the steps to meet them.

Pagan knew exactly what the young man meant by his question. "They all rode out, your Highness. They all rode out to attack Valhalla when they discovered that the King was missing," he told the 24-yr old Crowned Prince of Sanc in a worried tone.

A gasp from inside the carriage was heard. Milliardo was a bit surprised too. "Father was missing? Since when?"

"Just a few hours ago. He told me that he was just going out for a walk so I shouldn't bother calling for a guard to go with him so I didn't. Then an hour later, Misha came wanting to talk to his Highness. I told him what the King told me and he immediately sent someone to look for him, saying that it's dangerous to take a walk alone this time of night. But they didn't find him. They found his horse instead, grazing just outside the Dark Forest. The whole army then rode out, led by Misha, to get him back from the Valhallans."

Milliardo's face was grim. He didn't have anything against Misha, he always had been an efficient and loyal Captain of the Guards. But sometimes, he could be so hot-headed. And his hot-headedness would one day lead him and their whole army to their untimely and wasteful deaths. He glanced back at the carriage for a moment then said, "Pagan, tell Eric to ready my horse and my armor. I'm going to follow them."    

Pagan nodded and before Milliardo followed him, he heard a whisper from inside the carriage. "Be careful, brother."

In this world, in this place and time, three powerful kingdoms could be said to hold the balance of power amongst themselves: Romefeller, Sanc and Valhalla. But it wasn't always the case. Many years ago, Romefeller managed to conquer the majority of the kingdoms in the planet, making it the one and only ruling power, with the prime exception of Valhalla of course. But that didn't matter much to the Romefellans, for how could humans stand against a race of mysterious and unexplainable beings? It was believed that the Valhallans were the first race to have existed, existing way before man ever did. But nobody knew how these beings really look like, what they do or how they live. To many, the Valhallans were some sort of a monster who had special powers --- like the ability to change their shape at will and sprout wings. They were also said to be fond of human sacrifices, and they accomplish this by either kidnapping humans or marrying them. And though the little they knew only sprang forth from wild speculations and rumors, nobody could dispute the fact that whatever these folk were, they could fight. They were the only ones who, not only withstood Romefeller's attack and drove them out but also managed to destroy half of its army! With this in mind, the son of the then deposed King of Sanc went to Valhalla to ask the Grand Aescir's aid in order to free his people. And this particular action had caused a series of events to take place that molded History as it was known today.     

The Sanctian Army and the Valhallans were already engaged in a battle when Milliardo found them. He couldn't blame any of them though. It was a common reaction to attack the enemy whom they knew had motive and it was also a common reaction to retaliate and defend their own. He was still far off but he could see that though outnumbered, the Valhallans were holding their own. Actually, the Valhallans were slaughtering the Sanctians. Milliardo rode faster. It didn't matter whether they did kidnap his father or not. He had to save his people.

Upon arriving at the battlefield, he ceased to be Milliardo and became Zechs Merquise, the Lightning Prince. He yelled a battlecry, and started slashing one Valhallan after the other, his long hair flying behind him but held in place by his silver mask. The feel of his sword, the adrenalin rushing throughout his body, the risk, the uncertainty, the continuous clashing of steel and wills --- they were all familiar to him. He had led the Sanctians to battle many times before, as it was his privilege and responsibility being the Crowned Prince and the next King. And yet, each battle still felt different. It would always be different, for the deaths would be different, and the outcome might be different too.  

Seeing their Prince join them, the Sanctians rejoiced and rallied, though the Valhallans didn't seem to have been affected by it at all. Zechs just killed the warrior in front of him when he suddenly saw something white from the corner of his eye coming straight at him. He barely managed to dodge the attacker's sword. The white rider and its white horse whirled around to have another try on him. This time, he was prepared. Their swords clashed. As they fought and parley, Zechs knew that he was fighting with no ordinary warrior. And that was saying a lot coz everyone knew that the Valhallans were fierce warriors. _He's good, _he thought. He used a technique that usually would have finished off any lesser soldier but his opponent just blocked it off. _Really good, _he added to himself, satisfied.  It had been a while since he had a worthy opponent. And though his opponent's face was completely hidden by an unusual headgear, a white pointed helmet with a translucent faceplate, he instinctively knew that the Valhallan was feeling the same thing.  With this thought in mind, Zechs started attacking with renewed vigor. 

At the end, Zechs's will and sword prevailed, causing the Valhallan's sword to be thrown away. But the Prince's victory was short-lived. Weaponless, the Valhallan did a spectacular jump and tackled him to the ground. They tossed, they wrestled, they rolled on the dirt. And while the two warriors desperately fought, something nagged on Zechs' head. _There's something different about this warrior, _he said to himself. Something on the ground glittered, catching his eye. He immediately snatched it and without wasting time, stabbed his opponent on the shoulder. Having been weakened, he finally managed to pin the Valhallan to the ground, pointing the knife at his enemy's throat. But he then realized that amidst the confusion, his opponent's headgear came off. He was now staring at a delicate face with bright blue eyes and inviting lips, framed with tousled short blue hair.

Zechs was stunned. He dropped the knife and immediately jumped away. "A woman!" he exclaimed, his disbelief evident. It was said that all Valhallan women could fight. But there was this group of warrior women who undergo special training to infiltrate and fight. "Then you're a ---"

"Valkyrie," she finished for him. She grabbed her headgear, put it back on then stood up. She staggered a bit, her one hand holding her right shoulder, which is bleeding.

"But how? I thought the Valkyries were killed years ago."

"The truth is, it's impossible to annihilate all the Valkyries," she said in a hard tone. "I think you heard of the stories, Prince. Of what happens when one sees a Valkyrie's face during a battle. Or when one learns of a Vakyrie's name. Her real name."

He knew alright. "You hunt them 'til you kill them."

"Right. There's another option but hunting them to death is more fun." She saw a discarded sword and picked it up. "What are you waiting for, Sanctian? Our fight is not over yet. I'm giving you a second chance to kill me. Or else I wouldn't have a choice but to follow you even to the ends of this world to kill you in order to regain the pride that I lost when you defeated me."

Zechs smiled. He knew he should be scared. A Valkyrie's curse shouldn't be taken lightly. According to stories, nobody had managed to escape a Valkyrie once she decided to hunt him down. But seeing her beautiful face, he couldn't feel fear… yet there was something else. "As you said, I've already defeated you. We don't have to fight anymore. And I don't fight a wounded man. Much more a woman."

"Don't patronize me!" she yelled as she lunged at him. Being wounded, Zechs easily outmaneuvered her. He knocked of the sword from her hands and twisted her arms around her so he could hold her close.

"What are you waiting for? Kill me! Kill me now!" she said. 

He leaned nearer so he could whisper into her ear. His breath was soft when he said, "No. Like what I told you earlier, I don't fight a wounded opponent nor a woman --- even if she's a trained warrior and almost succeeded in killing me." He smiled. "Besides, if I kill you, then you wouldn't have to hunt me down. And honestly, I'm looking forward to it."

Taking it as an insult, the Valkyrie used all her remaining strength to get free of his hold. She did get free, also knocking him down in the process. But with her strength spent, she only managed to take a few steps away before she fell on her knees.  

"Here, let me help you," Zechs said, stepping closer to her.

She didn't answer. She slowly and discretely reached for the knife she hid in her armor --- her last defense. _Come on, just a little bit closer, Prince, _she whispered. He was almost within her reach and she was about to strike him when suddenly a voice said, "That's enough, Taurus."

Both Valkyrie and Sanctian looked up.  They saw a warrior in white, with blue, red and yellow astride another white horse, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The round, green orb at his chest gleamed, the moonlight bouncing off it. His face was fully covered, as was the custom of the Valhallans and their armors. 

"Zero," the Valkyrie whispered.

"You've done what you could. It's enough. Now go," Zero told her.

"But---"

"Go," he said again, but this time in a voice that required immediate obedience.

The Valkyrie hastily stood up then said, "Yes, **Zero-sama**." And was off.

If Zero knew how to cringe, he would have cringed when he heard her tone of voice. She was definitely furious. But he would have to worry about Taurus later. There was still some immediate business he had to attend to.

Amidst the din of the fighting, the two warriors silently regarded each other. Both being the heirs to their kingdoms, they had led their people to battle numerous times before, earning for themselves fame and glory in the battlefield. But for some twist of fate, this was the first time their paths actually crossed, getting the chance to finally meet each other face-to-face, though they had always wanted to test one's strength against the other, having heard of what the other could do. For one was known as the Lightning Prince, the Sanctian Warrior who strikes down his enemies in one clean swipe, delivering death as quickly as lightning. While the other was referred to as the Perfect Soldier, he who could easily annihilate a whole horde of men single-handedly, in a quick and efficient manner at that, without muttering even a single word! And now, Fate had finally saw it fir for these two great warriors to meet and do battle.

"So, aren't you going to attack me?" Zechs asked. 

As a response, Zero dismounted and gesturing with his head, he indicated Zechs' fallen sword a few feet away. "I don't fight an unarmed opponent."

Hearing this, Zechs smiled. _A warrior according to my heart, _he thought while retrieving his sword. They eyed each other for a moment before Zechs let out a yell, attacking Zero.

If any of the warriors in the battlefield weren't thinking of one thing and one thing only --- their own survival, it would have been worth it to watch the fight between Zechs and Zero. For one thing, no one could exactly predict who would come on top, both having an equal number of near misses and narrow escapes from the other's sword.  Both had never met such opponent before, and they were glad that they had now. 

Zechs was getting tired but he couldn't tell if his opponent was getting tired as well. He knew that many of the remaining Sanctian soldiers were getting tired too. He knew that one way or the other this battle had to finish. He had to end it now, but before he did, he had to know something first. He attacked fiercely and Zero blocked it, their swords clashing. 

"Where's my father?!" Zechs asked as the two of them held to their clashing swords, trying to overpower the other.

"Why ask me? I'm not his son nor his keeper," Zero answered in a monotone.

Zechs glared at him. "He's missing and my men think that you Valhallans had taken him."

"So you have a reason for attacking us for a change, though I couldn't really call it a reason since it's based on wild speculation and biased judgment," the Valhallan said coldly. "Unfortunately, I don't know where your King is. It's not our custom to kidnap people. And it's a great insult to any Valhallan to be accused of using underhanded and dirty tricks during a battle." With strength Zechs didn't know whence it came, Zero managed to overpower him, causing the Sanctian's sword to split into two. Pointing his sword at his opponent's throat, Zero said, "Maybe you **know **where my father is. He's missing as well."

Zechs mind started reeling. The Grand Aescir was missing too? Was it just a coincidence, or did it mean something? But more importantly, was he truly defeated? Was he finally going to die? He looked at his hand. He was still holding the hilt of his broken sword. Sure, if he could move fast enough, he could still use it to stab his enemy since there were still a few inches of blade left that he could use. He almost smiled wryly. How ironic it was! Now he knew how that Valkyrie had felt earlier.

Suddenly, a sound echoed in the battlefield. It was the Sanctian Army's call for retreat. And since the Prince wasn't the one who called for it, there was only one other person who could--- the King. Zechs was relieved that his Father was alright and that the remaining Sanctian soldiers could go home but not him. There was no consolation for him. _It doesn't really matter to me now, _Zechs thought, preparing himself to lunge at Zero with his broken sword. It was either him or Zero dead now, though it was obvious that the odds were against him. 

But before Zechs could do anything, Zero lowered his sword. Surprised, Zechs asked, "What? Aren't you going to kill me?"

"I don't think you're going to let me kill you this easily," Zero said, somewhat amused. "I couldn't see your face, true, but I know that you already thought of a counterattack." Then in a solemn voice he added, "A life for a life. You spared her life and that's more than enough reason for me to spare yours."      

Somehow, Zechs felt an unfamiliar pang in his heart. He stared at Zero, trying to penetrate into the headgear that was hiding his face. "Is she that important to you?" 

"She is," was Zero's simple reply. "But next time, there wouldn't be any hindrances. It'll just be between you and me."

Zechs smiled. "I'll look forward to it." He put his fingers in his mouth, whistling. Hearing the call, his horse came galloping to him. After mounting it, Zechs looked straight at Zero. "And next time, you wouldn't be so lucky." With that, he rode off. 

*****************************

Inside the hospital, the whole staff, headed by Dr. Andre Po with the help of his daughter, Sally, had been working round the clock since the wounded soldiers where brought in from last night's battle. And amongst them, a golden haired lady had been working just as hard as everyone else even if it really wasn't her duty to do so. She was no doctor, she didn't know anything about medicine. Nor was she a nurse. But she still helped in her own way, she always did. She helped in calming the patients, singing and talking to them, also in feeding and cleaning them. And though she thought that what she was doing was insignificant compared to what the others were doing, Sally and the others knew better. Little things they might be, but what she was doing contribute a lot to the patients' recovery. Her very presence was a source of inspiration. Well, the Crowned Princess of Sanc had always been an inspiration to her people. The Princess had this unexplainable way of making people at ease with just a smile, a touch, a kind word or just by being there, seeing her beautiful long, blonde hair or her fathomless sky blue eyes. So just imagine what it meant to the soldiers to find the Princess feeding them or singing to them. The doctors might have healed their bodies, but she, for her part, healed their souls. Everyone was really grateful that she was there, with them. 

"Relena," Sally called, approaching the young woman who just stood up, having finished feeding a patient. "I know you're tired. It's been a long night. Go rest, Princess. We can handle it from here."

"I'm alright, Sally. You're the one who should rest. You've been doing all the work."

Sally smiled. "You've been doing a lot more than you think. But you need to take a break. You might end up in one of the hospital beds if you don't watch out."

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me. Besides, you're under-staffed and ---"

"Doctor's orders, Princess. Do you want me to drug you?" Sally threatened.

"Ok, ok. But I'll be back after dinner," Relena replied, raising one hand in surrender. She put down the tray on one of the tables then started walking towards the door. She was about to go out when she glanced back and said to her friend, "Take your own advice, Sally. Get some rest too." With a wink and wave, she was gone.

Sally smiled, though she was a little troubled. She and Relena had been friends since they were kids, Sally's father being the King's Royal Physician and one of his most trusted adviser and friend. That was why she was certain that behind the smile, Relena was troubled about something. _What's bothering you, Relena? _she silently asked. With a sigh, she returned to her work.

Disobeying Sally's orders for rest, Relena didn't go inside the Palace towards her room. Instead, she went straight towards the back garden. It was smaller than the front garden and there weren't as much flowers but the flowers there were at bloom and at the very center of it was a fountain where an angel stood, holding a bucket over her head. It was her favorite place. She sat on the bench and stared at the sunset, the oranges and the reds being reflected on the cascading water. 

Her heart was heavy, she couldn't deny it. She was given a choice, not a command, but did she really have any say in it? Could she really do anything than say yes? If she wouldn't think of her people and only think of herself, she could say no. But she couldn't. Being a Princess not only meant riches and pageantry but duty and sacrifice as well. _It would be better if it would be just me and not them. Only one life --- one life in exchange for thousands._

"I thought I might find you here," a voice pierced through her thoughts. She turned her head and saw her older brother by the entrance. She smiled at him, gesturing for him to sit with her. He walked towards her and sat down, also watching the sunset. They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the sound of the fountain. But even how hard they try to hide it, it was evident that a cloud was hovering over them. Finally, Milliardo broke the silence. "Relena, I…"  he trailed off. There was a lot that he wanted to say, and he didn't know where to start. "I… I'm sorry, Relena. I failed to protect you."

'What do you mean?" she said as she looked at him. 

Milliardo remained looking at the fountain. "I'm supposed to be the one who should be burdened, not you. I should be the one making the tough decisions, and making the sacrifices for my people. I'm Father's heir afterall. But as I've discovered recently, I'm pretty helpless in a lot of things." He paused briefly, staring at his hands. He then looked at her. "I know how hard this is for you, being torn between your duty to your people and your duty to yourself. If only I could spare you this! If only I could trade places with you!  I don't care about myself as long as you and the whole Kingdom are happy!"

"But you can't," Relena said, holding her brother's hand. "You can't spare me this. You can't trade places with me. Only I could do this. It's all up to me now."

Millairdo sighed. "You don't have to decide immediately. You have a whole week to think it over. Nobody's in a rush. And don't forget that Father and I wouldn't think less of you if you refuse."    

Relena's eyes were blazing when she replied, "What else is there to think about? And what do you mean that nobody's in a rush? People are dying, brother. Do you think that I'll just stand here and **mull **things over while our people continue to have this stupid blood feud that has been going on for years when I have it in my power to finally end it? And do you honestly think that I will refuse? I thought you know me better, brother. I thought you **knew **better. One life is a small price to pay for peace. And like you, I don't care what happens to me as long as you and the whole Kingdom gain peace." 

His smile was both sad and proud when he told her, "Of course I knew that you wouldn't say no. The Prince in me wants you to accept it while that part of me that is your brother hopes that you'll refuse. But knowing you, the moment Father asked you, I knew that you already made up your mind."  He took both her hands and kissed them. "You really are strong, Relena. Stronger even than me." He held her gaze. "But are you really sure about this? Do you really know what you're getting yourself into?"

_'I don't understand why they keep on fighting! When I grow up, I'll do anything to make them stop,' _she heard a voice say in her head. It felt like a distant memory, a fleeting dream which she couldn't grasp and yet it felt like this simple but heartfelt statement was rooted deep inside of her, strengthening her resolve. "Yes, I'm sure. I willingly take it into myself to pay Sanc Kindom's blood dowry and end this blood feud once and for all. And to do that, I'll marry the next Grand Aescir of Valhalla, Zero."   


	2. The Valhallans

**Darkness and the Dawn**

by Neesah

**Chapter 2:  The Valhallans**

He brought down his sword in one quick movement, his eyes steady. He turned around, slashing through the air using just one hand. He paused, backed up a little then plunged through the air again, his whole body graceful, powerful --- dangerous. He continued on his routine sword maneuvers, just like what he did every morning but his mind kept wandering back to the events that transpired a week ago. 

*****FLASHBACK ******

Zero watched as his opponent rode off, his Sanctian soldiers also falling back. The Sanctian Prince's parting words were still ringing in his ears. _And next time, you wouldn't be so lucky. _

A wry smile crossed his lips. "Luck has nothing to do it," he whispered before surveying the whole field. His eyes squinted in the dark, gauging their losses. They only had a few casualties as compared to the Sanctians but most of it was due to Zechs' sword. 

"Damn him," he couldn't help muttering when he suddenly heard the sound of horses' feet coming towards him. He turned around and saw Deathscythe, Heavyarms, Sandrock and Altron moving towards him, the remaining Valhallan soldiers a shadow behind them. 

He nodded at the four, giving them the signal. It was the custom for them not to leave the bodies of the dead Valhallans in the battlefield. Whatever happened, the bodies should be recovered and carried back home immediately after the battle so they could be given the proper warrior's burial. That was the reason why nobody had seen a Valhallan's face, even dead, because the Valhallans made sure that not a single dead body of their kin remained in the battlefield for anyone to find in the morning, when the others would come back for their dead. Well, aside from the fact that anybody who did battle with the Valhallans was always the first ones to retreat.

The four gave the orders to their respective units. He then saw Taurus, astride her horse, standing a good distance from them. She was, without doubt, still mad at him. He mounted his horse and was about to go to her when they heard horses' hooves coming in their direction. 

But they weren't worried. Even from afar, they had confirmed the newcomers were not enemies. It was the Valkyries' 2nd in command, the Skogul, bringing with her two others. They weren't dressed in armor but in their traditional guard uniforms --- short leather skirt, leather knee-high boots, leather tank top with metal fittings and of course, a matching Gundamium helmet. Their helmets were not as big or as concealing as the ones that matched their armors, but it conceals enough features for one to be anonymous, to strangers that is.

The Valkyries made their way towards Zero and the others. The Skogul nodded reverently at the six, greeting Zero first, then Taurus before the other four, for she was her immediate superior, the Brynhildr, the leader of the Valkyries.  "Greetings, Zero-sama, Taurus-sama. The Grand Aescir and his Four Generals bid us to tell both of you and the Generals' respective heirs to hurry back to the castle. We'll take care of business here."

Hearing about the Grand Aescir brought about a collective sigh of relief from everyone. Zero nodded. "We'll leave this to you then, Sati." He then grabbed the reins and galloped towards Valhalla. The other 5 followed suit.

Their travel was swift and silent.  When they reached the gates, they slowed down their pace, making conversation possible. Deathscythe rode astride Zero. "Hey Heero," he called out. Only the most intimate of friends could call a Valhallan by his first name, and only when alone. "I thought you would miss the battle altogether. Took you awhile to finish off Dunedain?"

Heero almost smirked upon hearing the name of his latest challenger. "Everybody knew that Dunedain wanted to become, Gungnir, the Grand Aescir's Heir, since we were little. I didn't want to shatter his hopes that quick."

Deathscythe, Heavyarms and Altron laughed. Sandrock just smiled and shook his head while Taurus remained silent.

"I have to say he improved since he last fought Wufei," Heero said, referring to Altron. "He was good." 

"But not good enough," Heavyarms stated.

Sandrock nodded. "Never good enough."

"Still, it's a good thing that you didn't keep the fight that long just to amuse yourself. You could have arrived to late," Altron muttered, his yes flickering sideways to where Taurus was riding.

"Yeah. That Zechs is something is, isn't he? He's really good, for a Sanctian that is," Deathscythe said. "I thought I wouldn't make it to Lu's side in time."

"Me either," Heavyarms voiced out. Sandrock and Altron nodded their agreement.

"I had everything under control. I didn't need any help," Taurus hissed.  

"Come on, Lu, we all know who you are, what you are. Heck, woman, you're one of the best warriors I know. But admit it, Zechs was getting the better of you," Altron told her. 

"I was about to finish him off when, Mr. High-and-Mighty here interfered."

Heavyarms shook his head. "It's not just that moment, Lu. It's way before that. He let you go, remember? He spared your life."

Taurus was really getting pissed. She rode nearer Heavyarms. Sandrock noticed this. "Guys, I don't think this is the right time to discuss this," he warned, trying to ride beside Taurus to calm her down.

"Don't worry about me, Quatre." She turned to regard the others. "I didn't know that you had the time to keep an eye on our fight. So what are you saying, Trowa? That I'm weak? That I'm alive now because the enemy took pity on me?"

"Or was attracted to you. Remember, he had seen your face. Ah, love at first sight," Deathscythe remarked with a grin. 

Quatre sighed. "Duo…" 

Taurus glared at him. "Do you think I'll forget that he had seen my face? You know what a disgrace that is, Duo, so stop making jokes." 

Trowa answered her, trying to draw her wrath away from Duo. "You're not weak, and you know it. All I'm saying is that you've seen kindness today, and kindness in the battlefield is rare. And I understand if you don't want to thank Zechs but you owe Heero a thank you."

"What for? I was about to kill Zechs once and for all, when Heero came and stopped me. I can't see how that saved my life."

"Lu, Zechs is too strong a warrior to go down by just a blade. He would have known what you were planning to do. He was willing to let you go the first time, but backed to a corner, I don't think he would have spared you the second time. No one would," Quatre told her quietly.

"So basically, Heero saved you from getting yourself killed," Wufei said. 

The sound of horses' hooves stopped. They finally reached the castle. Groomsmen came running out, ready to take care of their steeds. Lu looked at Quatre, hurt. Of the five, Quatre had never gone against her, even when they were little. Then, the hurt turned into anger again. She jumped down from her horse and said, "I might not be able to defeat any of you in a fight but I'm still Brynhildr. I fight my own battles. I don't need any help from anyone," she looked at Heero, "not even from you."

She turned around and was about to run up the steps when somebody caught her arm. "Lucretzia."

She turned around and she saw Heero, his headgear hanging from his other hand. His Prussian blue eyes were gazing intently at her, his brown hair unruly as ever. "I've never seen you this angry before. Is it because I had deprived you of your prey or is the thought that you owe me which is bothering you that much?" he asked quietly, calmly. His eyes became even darker when he continued. "I know you're Brynhildr and saying that, I know what you're capable of. But also know this: I'll do anything to protect you, Lucretzia, even if it'll bruise your pride in the process. I'll even protect you from yourself."      

Lucretzia's eyes softened. "I know." But the Valhallan pride was never said to be that easy or that quick to appease. "But Zechs is still my prey, Heero. Don't interfere next time."

This time, Heero smiled. "That's where you're wrong. He's my prey now."

She shook off his hand from her arm, her eyes turning to angry slits. "I have first claim. I fought him first, and he saw my face. I have to hunt him down. Nobody sees a Valkyrie's face, and the Brynhildr's at that, and survive. No one."

"But I was the one he challenged. As Gungnir, I have the right, no, the duty, to answer that challenge. And that precedes your right for reprisal."

"Then in that case, may the best warrior get the kill."  With that Lucretzia made her way to the castle. 

Quatre, Trowa, Duo and  Wufei looked at each other, their headgears on their hands. "I know Zechs is the enemy but I can't help but feel sorry for him," Quatre remarked, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

Wufei smiled. "With those two hot on his trail, I couldn't blame you. Even if he really is good."

"It would be interesting to see how this fares, don't you agree?" Trowa asked.

"Yup. But it's more interesting to see how things will be when Lucretzia becomes Freyja," Duo said, mischief showing in his violet eyes. Hearing that last part, Heero gave Duo a sharp look but told everyone, "Let's go. The Grand Aescir is waiting."

*****END FLASHBACK ******

"I thought I might find you here," a familiar voice pierced his thoughts. 

Heero stopped at mid-swing, turning his head to make a quick glance at one of the few whom he considered as friends. As customary for all Einhenars, the Four Generals' heirs, Trowa was wearing his usual armor as Heavyarms --- white, red and orange. He wasn't wearing his headgear though, revealing his brown hair that was long in front, parted at the side, his green eyes calm and empty.

"Where's Quatre? You said you're practicing together," Heero asked as he continued with his maneuvers. 

"I'm here," Quatre said as he emerged from the bushes, wearing his brown, white and gold armor. No headgear. "Trowa and I were doing an obstacle course race. I guess he beat me, seeing he reached you first."

"I'm your goal?"

Trowa and Quatre looked at each other. Sensing the glance, Heero put down his sword and stared at his friends, his future Generals. "I'm waiting."

Trowa  looked at him. "They're coming today."

Heero lifted up his sword and twirled it with one hand. When Trowa said 'them' he meant the Sanctian Princess whom his father had him bethrothed to and her entourage. "I know."

"Are you really going through with this?"

He transferred the sword to his other hand and started twirling it again. "I am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

His movements became faster. "Give me one good reason why I should refuse."

"Lucretzia," Quatre answered for him, his blue eyes concerned. "And because it'll be against our customs. There, I gave you two reasons."

Heero inwardly sighed as he put his sword down, leaning against it. "You know that I don't love Lucretzia. Not in that way, I mean. And she doesn't see me in that way either. So it doesn't really matter. I'm not breaking her heart."

"But be honest, Heero. Of all the Valhallan women you know, isn't she the only one whom you can see as your Freyja, your Queen?" Quatre countered. "And not only because you've known her your whole life and she's the only person you're willing to spend your life with but because being who she is, she calls to you. The women proclaimed her Prima, Freyja-to-be, the most dominant female. Heck, everyone recognize her as Prima, even the Grand Aescir. She is both the Brynhildr of the Valkyries and the Prima, that is no ordinary achievement and tradition dictates that only the most dominant female could be a fit consort to the strongest male. So whichever way you look at it, either personal or political, Lucretzia is the only woman in Valhalla fit to marry you. Your people would not expect or tolerate any less."  

Heero knew that Quatre was right. In everything. It was a Valhallan custom that the Gungnir and the Prima to be perfect mates --- the strongest male with the most dominant female. And ever since the beginning, this was the way it was, the way it should be. It never had been viewed as a forced or arranged marriage for power calls to power --- the two attract each other. And most of the time, the two would be attracted to each other way before they became officially the Gungnir and the Prima. Just like most of the Valhallans could sense who would become Gungnir, Prima, or any of the four Einhenars before they were officially proclaimed.

Two years ago, he was officially proclaimed Gungnir and the only thing that was keeping him from becoming the Grand Aescir was challenging and defeating the current one in a fight for dominance. Only after he became the Grand Aescir could the Freyja be chosen for there could only be one Freyja for one Grand Aescir in a lifetime. The bond between them was eternal, complete.  It was during the Sundance Festival when the Goddess Mother would choose the Freyja, her most favored daughter and it always happened that the Prima would be chosen as Freyja. As it stood, Lucretzia wasn't chosen as Freyja yet but there was no doubt that she wouldn't be. And to be honest, if he really was to become Grand Aescir, he was wishing hard that she would be. He couldn't think of anybody else he would be at ease to spend his entire life with. 

And that wasn't the only reason. He couldn't think of any woman who could be more dominant or stronger than Lucretzia. She didn't only have physical strength but also strength of character, of will. To become a Brynhildr, one had to defeat everyone who challenged her in a fight. But to become Prima, one must have the support and respect of all the Valhallan women. They should be willing to follow her and die for her. Being both Prima and Brynhildr was a rare thing, for brute strength would never be a deciding factor for becoming a Prima, unlike in becoming a Brynhildr, but strength of heart would. There was only one other case in their history of a woman who was both Prima and Brynhildr--- Helltage, the late Freyja Epyon's wife. Heero's mother.    

"I'll be lying to you and to myself if I say you're wrong, Quatre and don't think that I haven't thought about this carefully. Our people would not expect nor tolerate any less from me, especially with my handicap. But I could give you one very good reason for me to agree to this arrangement," Heero replied. "It'll stop the war, end the bloodfeud for good. And I think, at the end, that's the only reason that matters."

"What did Lu said about all of this?" Trowa asked. 

"She agrees with me. She's Prima afterall, and she thinks this is for the best. But she fears the consequences." He ran a hand through his unruly mane. "That's why she'll make sure that only that part about me marrying someone rather than the Prima, a foreigner, stranger and an enemy at that, will break tradition. The rest we'll follow as before."

"Uh-oh," Quatre muttered at the same time as Trowa remarked, "That doesn't sound good."

Their conversation was cut short when two figures appeared before them. One was wearing a black, white, yellow and red armor, his long brown hair in a braid at his back. The other had a green and white and red and yellow armor on, with black hair tied into a short ponytail set against a pair of obsidian eyes. 

"Come on, guys. Let's go," Duo told them, his braid bouncing behind him. He seemed excited.

"Where?" Quatre questioned.

"To the stadium. We've been challenged," Wufei informed them. 

The five of them exchanged looks, amused.  With that, they hurried towards the stadium, excited with the though of a fight.


End file.
